Portions for foxes
by 7h3 Wh1t3 R4bb17
Summary: Its barely mature, I know but this it to be safe. EricRyan slash, songfic.Baby, you’re bad news, but I don’t care, I like you


Title: Portions for Foxes

Author: White Rabbit

Fandom: CSI: Miami

Pairing: Slash, Ryan/Eric

Summary: Baby, you're bad news, but I don't care, I like you.

Warning: If you're looking for that Happy, go lucky fan fiction, you my friend are in the wrong spot, and this is angst.

Notes: Everything like _this_ is the song lyrics. This is also my first dive in to this fandom, I've done others, but this is my first CSI: Miami Fan fiction. Also, grammar and such will/might be off. I am working with Microsoft Works Word Processor

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami nor do I own the song, Portions for Foxes by Rilo Kiley. Go Dl the song I command thee!

I spit out the blood in my mouth. It seems I bit my tongue; it seems it is all I can do to stop myself. I rise out my mouth and there is still a coppery taste left.

I think that's why we get into so my arguments, because I can't bring myself to say anything about you taking the numbers. All that leaves my lips are insults and trash talk. You wonder in to the locker room, starling me from my thoughts, I begin to say something but you lips on mine cut me off. My heart leaps out of my chest this is everything I wanted. You already have me pinned against the wall and our bodies rub together nicely creating just the right amount of friction. Soon I'm not against the wall but a stall, I'm missing my clothing, but so are you, and that's ok. The waters running, it trails down your chest as it dips and slowly reaches your navel. My tongue soon following it. Before I can continue you pull my up and twist me around, I'm spread eagle on the wall. Then you full me, and everything seems right. It feels like all the pent up self-loathing release from me the same time we climax. Now you don't seem so mysterious, because I've seen what happens when you let in to the pleasure of the flesh.

__

There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week.  
I keep on talking trash, but I never say anything.  
And the talking leads to touching,  
And the touching leads to sex,  
And then there is no mystery left.

As we get dress I can't help myself as I say to you "_And it's bad news, baby I'm bad news  
I'm just bad news_," then kiss you on the jaw "_bad news_," then kiss you on the nose "_bad news._" the last one escaping my mouth barely above a whisper over you lips before finally kissing them. You shake you head with a smile, disagreeing with me.

Its some weeks later now, we've build up some kind of twisted relationship haven't we? Its beer at one of our apartments, maybe some take out, and then it's right off to the bedroom. Nothing leaves our lips in the bedroom and afterwards you always get up and leave the room. I feel so alone, even when you're on the sofa with me and we are just talking and laughing. Even at work when we are working together. However, that's okay because you still show up with a bag of take out at my door, and we still never fully make it through the whole meal. The fact of the matter is you still answer your phone even when you see it's I and that means the world to me, even if this relationship is slowly tearing me apart. On the nights I think to deeply about the relationship, I always dream that you leave me. I start from these dreams and call you, pleased that you still pick up your phone even if it's just me. In a weak voice, all I can manage is "C'mere."

_I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you,  
But just being around you offers me another form of relief  
When the loneliness leads to bad dreams,  
And the bad dreams lead me to calling you,  
And I call you and say "c'mere!"  
_  
When you come in all I can say to you is "And it's bad news, baby I'm bad news

It's just bad news, bad news, bad news." I repeat it again like a mantra to get it through you head "_And it's bad news, baby it's bad news. I'm just bad news_," a tear slow starts its descend "_bad news_," another one joins the first "_bad news_" the last bit is said barely above a whisper as the tears come full force. All you do is bring you hand to my face and pull me closer before shaking your head and kissing my face. Soon it leads into more but those are secrets for my sheets alone.

It seems like its become a second nature for you to just be there when I call. You pick up the piece that fall and try to put me back together, however, there are always missed pieces, and I don't feel as complete as I did before. You try to make me forget by using your sinfully good tongue, in just the right way. It seems like you are damage control and nothing more. I look like a walking zombie, the team has commented on it more then once. I smile and make up and excuse. You look like the dead too. I really feel bad because you're putting me back together during the nights and supporting your sister during the days. However, you know what I think from the start everyone is portioned for the foxes to rip apart.

_'Cause you're just damage control  
For a walking corpse like me,  
Like you,  
'Cause we'll all be portions for foxes.  
Yeah, we'll all be portions for foxes._

She is beautiful. She has honey color hair that comes to her shoulders. Her brown eyes the color of your favorite coffee. All five feet and seven inches were a nice piece of ass. She was so in to you to. She would casually flit with you, if you knew it or not you did it right back. I guess it just happened one night; I think it was when you had a case that you were so taken with. She also was working on one of her cold cases. I had left you not needing my help. I went home, thought about us, and drifted of to sleep.

The dream I had was horrendous. You move in to the room she is in and ask a question. She answers it and moves it movie in to flitting. Soon it becomes more. You drag her off to a supply closet. She was wearing a skit so it made for easy access. Soon the both of you were in the throws of pleasure. Now she wasn't so mysterious, no just another one of the lab techs. When I wake up and call you, you're phone doesn't pick up and it leads me straight to your voice mail. I know I've lost you, But I still hold on.

_There's a pretty young thing in front of you  
And she's real pretty, and she's real into you  
And then she's sleepin' inside of you.  
And the talking leads to touching, then the touching leads to sex  
And then there is no mystery left.  
_  
So when you come up to tell me I cut you off saying "_And it's bad news. I don't blame you. I do the same thing. I get lonely too. And you're bad news; my friends tell me to leave you, That you're bad news," _I look at him defeated '_bad new_,' I sigh at his crushed look, "_bad news_." I say the last bit above a whisper his eyes look gloomy. However, I shake my head disagreeing with what I said. He smiles a small smile, and he hugs me be fore kissing me. He then walked off.

'_You're bad news, baby you're bad news_.' my mind whispers to his back as he is stopped by a female lab tech.  
'_And you're bad news, baby you're bad news_.' my mind whispers again as you take the slip of paper from her hand and pocket it.  
'And you're bad news' my mind says as I spin around to head home.  
_'I don't care I like you.' _I say to my self when I reach my car.  
_'And you're bad news' _my mind says again as it grows late and you haven't arrived with take out

'I don't care I like you.' I say it out load hoping you waiting for the queue, but you don't come so I head to bed.  
'_I like you_.' I whisper in to my empty sheets, praying you're not slipping from me.


End file.
